


Heart Of The World

by LondonGypsy



Category: Kane (Band)
Genre: First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-13
Updated: 2012-05-13
Packaged: 2017-11-11 01:51:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/473130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LondonGypsy/pseuds/LondonGypsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just another day of traveling, living in each other's pocket for too long and things are 'bout to change</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heart Of The World

**Author's Note:**

> As always - huge thanks to my beloved SuperWhoLockGypsy for being awesome; all remaining mistakes are mine!!
> 
> I have not the lightest clue how in the world I came up with this, it just popped in my head when I listened to Lady A's 'Heart of the World' one day and I just needed to sit down and type... the entire thing was written in one evening O_o It has nothing from the song, tho but it was definitely inspired by it.

Christian rolls onto his back and yawns. Without opening his eyes he stretches, knowing for sure that it's way too early to be awake. He cracks one eye open anyways, and frowns into the dark room before he realizes what woke him. He groans; of course. 

He grabs a pillow and blindly throws it at the bed right next to him. 

He hears a sniffled grumble, sheets rustling before silence falls again. 

He grins and pulls the covers back over him, curling up around himself for a few more hours of much needed sleep. 

*

“Dude, did you throw a pillow at me last night???” 

Christian blinks his eyes open, glaring sleepily at his band mate. 

“You were snoring like you wanted to kill an entire forest, man,” he replies, yawning loudly. 

Steve mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like “asshole”, but Christian isn't really conscious enough to deal with his best friend. 

*

“Man, your shirts are scattered all over the place.” 

Steve looks up from his place on the bed, torn out of his own little world.

“Huh??” 

Christian rolls his eyes and picks up a shirt, waving it at his friend. 

“Shirts...floor...? Dude, you need to stop dropping your clothes like that when you stumble to bed. One could get killed while walking around at night.” 

Steve chuckles. 

“You're supposed to sleep at night, not wander around.” 

He grins as Christian scowls at him and returns his focus to the song he's working on. 

*

“KANE!!” 

Steve yells out of the bathroom, sounding seriously annoyed and Christian isn't sure he wants to know why. 

He peeks through the half-closed door. 

“Yes, Steve?” he tries a soothing tone. 

“What in the fucking blue hell is this???” 

Christian doesn't really know what he means but as his eyes follow the pointing finger he squirms. 

“Oh shit, I'm sorry...” 

He hurries into the room to remove the dripping socks from the sink. 

“Kane, how often do I have to tell you to not wash them in the fucking sink, huh??” 

Steve glares at him, and he is close to exploding. 

Christian ducks his head and throws the socks in the bath tub, slowly backing away from his steaming band mate. 

“One more time, Kane and I'm so throwing your shit out the window. Now out, I wanna shower,” Steve growls and Christian flees the room. 

*

“Steve, where are my picks?? I can't find them,” Christian whines, rummaging through his suitcase, clothes flying everywhere. 

“Are you kidding, man?! You just got an entire set, freshly done. How the hell could you lose them already?” 

Steve rolls his eyes but he grabs Christian's guitar case and digs through it. He mumbles obscenities Christian only half understands. 

Ten minutes later the room looks like a bomb exploded in it; clothes, guitar straps and shoes are surrounding both musicians. 

Steve throws his hair out of his eyes and sighs deeply. 

“I still wonder why they keep giving you shit, man, you tend to lose it anyway,” he grunts. 

Christian falls on the bed, throwing his hands in the air. 

“I had them last night before we came up here...” 

“Well, I'm sure they didn’t vanish into thin air. Though, with you, one never knows,” Steve shoots back. 

“C'mon, pack your shit, you can use some of mine tonight.” 

They stuff everything back in their respective cases and Steve checks the bathroom for any forgotten items. 

A hard slap against the back of his head lets Christian jump to his feet. 

“What the fuck?” 

“You're getting old, Kane,” Steve only says and throws him a little box. Christian barely catches it and he groans as he opens it. 

“Where?” 

Steve only snorts. 

“Flushing cistern,” Steve snarls. 

*

“Steeeeve...” 

“No, go away. I'm sleeping.” 

“Steviiiiiie...” 

“Fuck you, I'm not talking to you.” 

“Ohhh Steeeeven....” 

“Oh please, that only works for my Mom. Go away...annoy somebody else.” 

Christian falls back in his seat, pouting. 

“You know,” he says to the headrest in front of him, “you keep me awake all night with your snoring, I shouldn't let _you_ sleep at all...not fair, ya know. Plus all the mumbling and humming when you sleep...” 

“I don’t mumble,” comes from the other seat. 

“Oh yes you do. All the fucking time... how am I supposed to sleep when you're telling stories all night long, eh?” 

Steve's head emerges over the seat, his hair sticking out in all directions but his eyes were blazing blue fire at Christian. 

“Dude, if you wanna get _any_ kind of rest tonight you better shut your mouth.” 

Christian stifles a laugh.

“Carlson, you wouldn’t want to mess with me. Not if you ever wanna have peace in your little life, man.” 

Steve snorts, shakes his head and disappears back into his seat. 

Christian hears some grumbled curses, decides to ignore them and settles back into his own seat, grinning contently.

*

“Fuck, where's...?” 

“Here. Relax, would ya? You're driving everybody nuts... calm down, man.” 

Steve hands Christian the bottle of JD and watches him taking a long drink. 

“Better?” he asks, smiling as the other man exhales heavily and nods. 

“Thanks. What would I do without you?” 

Steve grins and snags the bottle. 

“Dunno, die, probably? Or at least... get lost in that cruel world out there.” 

Christian frowns but Eric interrupts and calls them. 

“We're coming,” Steve says, grabbing his guitar. 

Christian closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths to center himself. 

He feels Steve moving around, then he feels the smooth wood of his own guitar against his hands. 

He opens his eyes and Steve is watching him closely. 

“Are you ready?” 

Christian nods and smiles before he heads towards the stage. 

*

“You know...” Steve muses, nursing his God-knows-how-many drink, “you and me... we’re kinda like an old married couple...” 

He's slurring the words a bit but he's not as drunk as one might think; Christian knows him well enough. 

“Bitching about the little things, like your inability to throw empty containers away and not put them back in the fridge or that annoying thing you do with your jaw when you're pissed...” 

Christian shoots up from his place on the bed and almost spills his own drink. 

“You have no room to talk, dude. Have I mentioned how annoying it is that you're not capable of standing still for one fucking second? Or the fact that you stir your coffee as if you wanna vaporize it?” 

Steve glares at him over the edge of his glass. 

“I have a very restless mind,” he says matter-of-factly, emptying his drink. 

Christian snorts. 

“Dude, you are the one who insists on having that smelly incense shit in every fucking hotel room,” he continues, “and you never refill the damn toilet paper...” 

“Kane! Stop it.” 

Steve puts his glass in the nightstand and scrambles to his feet. 

“Damn, Christian, if you wanna say you don’t wanna travel with me anymore, just say it, 'kay? I know that I'm not perfect and by the way, neither are you, but if you...” 

“I love you.” 

It’s dead silent in the room, Steve stares at Christian, who isn't moving at all, his glass forgotten in his hand. 

Steve shakes his head, frowning at the other man. 

“Pardon? What did you...?” 

Christian puts his glass down, stands and slowly walks over to stop right in front of Steve. 

“You heard me.” 

Steve's gaze glides over the man's face in front of him. 

“Yeah, I heard you but...” 

Christian takes Steve's face in his hands. 

“I love you. I love every fucking imperfection that makes you who you are, all the little things that you can't stop doing even though I’ve been bitching about them for years now. I love the way you sleep, sprawled all over the bed, taking as much room as you can get. I love the fact you don’t function if you haven’t gotten your daily dose of caffeine. I love the way you smile at me when we're on stage, all warm and sweet. I love that you are the first thing I see in the morning, and the last at night. I love that you know me better than my Mom and I love that you have never ever left my side.” 

Christian's cheeks are burning hot and his palms feel damp against Steve's cheeks, but his eyes are burning with a fire Steve has never seen in them. 

“Steve Carlson, I love you. You are my best friend and my band mate, but I was hoping you could be more than that...” 

He bites his lip at the last words, squirming a bit, but he never breaks the eye contact. 

Steve is shocked, to say the least. He isn't moving at all, every breath takes ages to make. 

He swallows hard, trying to read Christian's face but for once he can't; his mind is numb. 

Suddenly he notices how good the other man smells; it’s his aftershave, that hint of musk he always associates with Christian and the whiff of that girly conditioner he uses to smooth his curls.

Christian watches him closely, waiting; Steve sees the hope and the fear battling in his eyes. 

“Man, you're weird,” he says before he leans in to kiss him. 

Softly and carefully, like Christian is going to break if he's too rough with him. 

His lips are only brushing gently over Christian's mouth, getting used to the other man. 

Christian's hands slide in Steve's hair, cradling his head, warm and somewhat soothing. 

Tentatively Steve flicks his tongue against Christian's lips, moaning involuntarily at the unfamiliar taste. 

Christian growls deep in his throat and his grip in Steve's hair tightens, pressing him closer. 

Than there's a moist pressure against Steve's mouth and without thinking he opens up and his knees get weak. 

This is like nothing he had ever experienced: he has butterflies in his stomach, his hands are shaking as he reaches up, letting his fingers trace over Christian's burning skin. 

Christian's tongue curls around his own, nudging it playfully and the sounds he makes, low, silent moans, filled with pleasure and joy have Steve trembling. 

The kiss deepens, Steve's nerves are buzzing and he has never felt happier. 

Slowly he makes a step back, pulling Christian with him till he feels the edge of the bed against his knees. 

He sinks down on the mattress, not letting go of the other man, and Christian follows him willingly. 

Steve drags Christian closer, suddenly not wanting him to break the contact; he slings his leg over Christian's, pressing against him. 

Hands slide through silky hair, quiet sounds fill the room, vibrating through their bodies. 

Eventually they have to break the kiss, gasping for air. 

Christian's hand slides over Steve's back, just a gentle touch, but it has Steve shiver. 

His lids flutter closed again, every sense is filled with Christian. He leans in to kiss him again, just a quick peck on his upper lip but he feels him smile. 

“So...” Christian drawls roughly, locking his dark gaze with Steve's, “you okay with staying by my side for a little while longer?” 

Steve chuckles; he can't help himself. 

“Yes, Chris,” he murmurs and tangles his fingers in Christian's hair, “I guess I can do that.” 

“Good,” the other man says, stifling a yawn, “otherwise the next time would've been awkward.” 

Steve rolls his eyes but forgets his comeback as Christian pulls him against his body again, erasing any cocky answer with a sweet languid kiss. 

*

“Steve... can't...breathe...” 

“Shhh, you love it, quiet now...” 

“Seriously, man, I... can't... fucking... breathe...” 

Christian wiggles and squirms and with a deep sigh Steve pulls back, stuffing a pillow under his head instead of listening to the steady sound of Christian's heart. 

“You weigh like a ton, dude,” Christian croaks, but Steve hears the grin in his words. 

He glances up through his lashes, smiling brightly as his eyes meet Christian's, watching him with a new expression. 

“Hey you,” he mumbles, pushing a strand of hair out of Steve's face, as Steve sighs at the touch. 

“Hey.” 

They keep looking at each other; Christian's hand caressing Steve's cheek while Steve's fingers trail an invisible pattern on Christian's chest. 

“You know, we have to sleep at some point, right?” 

Steve doesn't bother to check in the clock. 

“I know,” he says, never stopping his exploration of Christian's upper body. 

He props his head in his hand while the other one slips under the shirt Christian is wearing. 

Steve bites back a moan at the sound Christian makes at the touch. 

“Fuck, since when do you make porn noises when I touch you?” he asks hoarsely. 

“Since you started touching me like this,” Christian whispers back, a shudder running through his body. 

“Hmmm, I might get used to that...” 

*

It's dawn when Steve wakes up, limbs tangled with Christian's, a heavy, warm weight against his side. 

Carefully Steve slides out of Christian's arms and crawls out of bed. He stumbles into the bathroom and then into the small kitchen area to make some coffee. 

As the coffee's ready he fills a mug and wanders back, but he doesn't want to disturb Christian's sleep. 

Instead he sits on the tiny sofa next to the bed, pulling up his knees and just watching the other man sleep. 

Christian is laying on his stomach, one arm splayed over the empty bed side, the other stuffed under the pillow. The covers slid down over night and somehow he has lost his shirt as well; Steve smiles into his mug at the _how_. His naked back shimmers diffusely in the twilight coming through the half-open curtains. 

Steve's heart flutters a bit at the sight of hard muscles under that smooth, tanned skin. 

He has seen Christian naked more than once but he never wanted to kiss every single inch of that skin, never wanted to let his hands wander over it, memorize all the lines and dimples. 

He sighs, closing his itching fingers around the mug in his hands. 

He takes a sip of the coffee, hissing as the hot liquid burns on his bruised mouth. 

They kissed all night, only stopped because Christian's yawning made it impossible to continue. They fell asleep in each other’s arms, and Steve has never felt more safe...and more loved than surrounded by Christian, his scent in his nose and his taste on his tongue. 

Christian shifts on the bed; his hand searches the sheets and a little protesting sound falls from his lips. He slides on the other side, grumbling sleepily, his hand still seeking, and suddenly Steve's eyes fill with tears. 

He sets down the mug and leans forward, catching Christian's searching fingers. He entwines his own with them and bites back a whimper as he sees how the corners of Christian's mouth curl up into a heartbreakingly sweet smile. 

He tugs on Steve's hand and Steve slides back into bed and under the covers. 

Christian's body is radiating heat like a sleepy cat and as he feels Steve's hand finding their way back in his hair, he purrs quietly. 

“Where'd ya go?” he mutters, nuzzling Steve's neck. 

“Coffee,” Steve says, swallowing around the lump in his throat. 

“Brought me one?” 

Steve blinks rapidly to clear his view; he almost succeeds, only one tiny tear escapes his eye. 

“You're not even conscious enough to talk, dude,” he replies, burying his heated face in Christian's cool hair, inhaling deeply. 

“'mkay...how late?” 

“Too early for you, old man. Go back to sleep...” 

Christian nudges him in the side but then wraps himself around Steve, sighing deeply, permeating pure content and happiness. 

Steve listens to his deep, calm breathing and when he's sure the other man is sound asleep again, he kisses his forehead. 

“I love you, too, man.” 

 


End file.
